The End

Berlin

"The entire city is coming down on our heads and that damned fool is still refusing to acknowledge reality." A soldier said over the broken beer bottles.

"Heh.. careful now.. that's treason.." Another officer slurred from across him.

The sound of a distant explosion went off and the entire bunker shuddered in response. Paint fell from the roof and the orbs flickered as if under unknown stress.

"Gentlemen. I have grim news." Another officer came in once everything had settled.

The two drunk ones snorted in response as if the new entrant had told a funny joke.

"The British and the Americans have uncovered another death camp on the outskirts of Ardennes." He said and the two officers audibly laughed this time around.

"Another one! Ha! Grindelwald has truly fucked us all over!" He declared.

"This is no laughing matter!" The sober yelled. "The fury of the allied forces is unyielding. Some of them are now even refusing to accept the surrender of our troops! Preferring to kill instead!"

"Well? Didn't you hear what he said, boy? Pretty much the same as you." The drunk one yelled and the two started descending deeper into alcohol, hoping all of this was just a bad dream. A bad dream they would soon wake up from to discover Gellert was still alive. To discover that their empire of a thousand years hadn't been reduced to Berlin alone in a few years. Unfortunately, this was all reality. A fact that the sober one was trying to communicate to his senior officers.

"My point is – what the hell are we going to do now?" The sober one demanded, "If the Allied frontline commanders are refusing to communicate, we shouldn't waste time! We should immediately contact Minister Bones and begin surrender negotiations!"

"Or what?" One slurred.

"OR THE ALLIES WILL REDUCE EVERYTHING TO RUBBLE!" The sober one shouted. "AND THAT'S WHAT THE GOOD ALLIES WOULD DO! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA OF WHAT'S HAPPENING ON THE EASTER FRONT!"

The sober one took a deep breath before yelling again, "AND WORSE, ALL THE GOBLINS WE SHOVED INTO DEATH CAMPS ARE WRECKING HAVOC! ARE WE GOING TO LET ALL OF OUR PEOPLE DIE HERE?!"

The drunk officers looked at the sober one seriously before exchanging glances and breaking out into fits of laughter again.

"Do you think you are the only one who has thought of that? You junior officers are adorable." Drunk 1 said.

"Luther doesn't hear anything. He sees anything. Of all the fools who swam back, I wish he had drowned in the channel." Drunk 2 said. "He has lost all semblance of reality. He moves divisions that no longer exist."

Having had enough of the drunken mumbling of the senior officers, the sober one stormed out of the officer's mess.

The Lair

"General Walden, the allied forces have broken through the defensive wards placed at the Berlin outskirts." An officer said gesturing to a live map. "From the East, the Russians pour thousands of men into the front. Any attempts to counterattack have been met with massive spell fire barrage."

He waved his wand, and the map shifted. "From the west, British and American airpower have taken out large swathes of magical and physical defensives. Unfortunately, the Air Force has proven strongly resistant to our countermeasures. All estimates put it that the allied forces will be here within 48 hours."

The map zoomed out again to display Germany as a whole, "Moreover, our scouts have reported mass-scale sabotage of food and logistics conducted by recently released Goblin prisoners of war."

Luther dismissively waved his hand through the air, "Nonsense. They severely underestimate German soldierly if they think we will be beaten."

Luther pounded his fist on the table and grinned. He pointed at the map to German reserves and ordered, "I have already placed two divisions under Comrade Steiner and ordered him to counterattack the western push."

"My General…. There are no two divisions left…. Only raw farm boys and backroom staff… everything we had remaining was lost in the battle for Britain." The officer replied.

"Nonsense! Don't underestimate the German soldier! They will realize what's at stake here and act accordingly!" Luther Walden said. Before the argument could devolve further, a messenger zipped into the room and hovered in front of the officer. He gingerly took the missive and unfolded it, his eyes grew wide and his skin paled.

"Well damn it?! What is it?!" Luther demanded.

"My – my General, Steiner…..." The officer said but stumbled and fell on one knee. Another who had been reading over his shoulder continued, "Steiner didn't have enough men to counterattack. The attack has failed."

A hush fell over the room as Luther reached for his monocle with trembling hands and removed it. Luther brought his hands to his face and took deep breaths.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" he roared. "Steiner's attack was an order! So again, what the fuck!"

"My lord, Steiner was outnumbere-" The officer said but Walden threw his monocle at his face. Before he could rant further, Steiner grabbed his chest as a sharp pain flared up. He collapsed and fell on the floor, darkness rapidly engulfing him as his staff hovered over him in panic.

Run Little Fox, Run!

Ashley Redwood ran through the forest. She had been one of the survivors who made it back alive from Britain. In the distance, hunting dogs howled, and ghosts swiveled about trying to find her location.

Just rewards for following Grindelwald. Ashely bitterly thought to herself. Out of the frying pan, into the fire – that's what her life had devolved into. The zealous camp operators had executed her mother as soon as they had heard Grindelwald had fallen in Britain. Her younger brother had somehow managed to escape when the Russians had liberated the camps. All she had to do was ensure Grindelwald controlled Hogwarts. How was she to know that the dumbasses in the Black Hand would fail so miserably?!

Hells, she had gone above and beyond and even killed THE Arcturus Black to further prove her loyalty to Grindelwald and step away from the sins of her father. Unfortunately, that last act had cemented her fate. She had heard that the Dorea and Cassiopeia Black had placed a tremendous bounty on her head. As such, a soldier from every country was out for her blood. The Germans wanted to arrest her to win favorable concessions and pardon from the Black family. The British wanted a chance to prove themselves and perhaps earn a match. Everyone else just wanted to shower in galleons.

Hideout after hideout of hers had been raided and all her friends gleefully gave her up to avoid being tortured. In her morose walk, she never noticed a red stunner racing from the forest towards her.

"Incarcerous" The voice yelled again and a spell from an opposite direction struck her.

Tightly bound, her captives chose that moment to reveal themselves and Ashley's blood ran cold.

"Hello, Redwood." Dorea Black greeted her, and the wand pointed at her forehead.

"It's been a while. We have a chat long overdue." Cassiopeia said from beside Dorea. "Come. We have arranged supper for you at our winter estate. The Black hospitality is eager to serve you."

Hail The Victorious Dead!

"Honor! Aim!" The service members raised their wands into the air, "Fire!" At that colorful spark shot out of the wands forming the military's lion-headed symbol alongside Eldermoor's flag. Minister Bones took this as her cue to start her address to the victors. Harry mostly droned out what she was saying. He was tired. He was tired of the khaki fatigues, the war rooms, and combat. By Merlin, he could go without looking at a tactical map again in his life. Everyone around them stood wearing all black the mourners. The men wore formal suits while the women wore dresses with long hats.

Beside him, Morrigan gently gripped his hand to bring him back to reality. She nudged him and Harry sighed when looking at what she was pointing to. Wordlessly, Harry grabbed Morrigan and broke his place from the formation. He walked where a sobbing Helena stood and gently wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Helena hugged him entirely and put her head on his shoulder.

"There there, Helena." Harry said as he patted her shoulder, "It's going to be all right."

A raindrop hit his head and Harry stared at the overcast sky above. The thunderstorm of the earlier day had broken as soon as their duel with Gellert Grindelwald had ended. It was as if nature itself adjusted according to their moods. First, it was thunderous, matching their hatred and war-like mood. Then it was overcast, matching their sorrow for all the lives lost.

"And although we have each lost a beloved. A father. A brother. A sister or A mother. Some have even lost a lover." Helena sobbed at hearing that. "We must all learn from their example and be ready to fight harder for a brighter future. A brighter future for the beloved yet to come."

The minister paused, hoping for her words to sink in as the crowd murmured. His eyes met the spectacled stare of Charlus, and he nodded in acknowledgment. Besides him, Dorea offered a half-hearted wave. Both had heavy underbags and bloody red eyes. Harry grimaced at the sight. All of them had lost somebody close to them.

Elizabeth. Bridget. Sebastian. Arcturus.

All bright mages who had the potential to change the world but were cut down before their time. All because of a madman and his delusions. This was what he knew. Reports from liberated death camps told stories of entire bloodlines of lamaes, veela, werewolves, merpeople, giants, nagas, fairies, and centaurs who had been rendered extinct.

This wound will never heal. Harry thought to himself. Morrigan again gently squeezed his hand in a reassuring way and Harry felt survivor's guilt him with full force. He had lost people before. His parents are foremost. Harry knew he could survive if any of the others had passed away. Oh, he would've been sad and depressed, but he knew he would come out of the darkness. There was only one person whose mere thought of passing gave him pause even today.

Morrigan.

The selfish part of him was glad that she lived while others died in her place. Perhaps it was God or the universe playing alchemy with him. The law of equivalent exchange.

Arcturus, Sebastian, Bridget, and Elizabeth in exchange for Morrigan.

Deep down he knew if an otherworldly deity presented such a deal, he would've taken it. As if sensing his thoughts, the wind blew through the quidditch field carrying her scent with it and Harry struggled to avoid shuddering.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Harry thought. This is a funeral, damn it! My own people have died!

Unfortunately, try as he might, he just couldn't bring himself to care right now. All he wanted to do was to lie on a large bed under massive sheets – away from all the cold, death, and weeping. Preferably with Morrigan by his side.

Thankfully, the minister's announcement dispelled his emotional haze.

"And now, I would like to honor our heroes of the hour, Morrigan Gaunt and Harry Petrov!" Minister Bones said.

A polite applause went around and as Harry climbed the platform, he could see they too were sick of it all. The aides handed the minister a box and the minister presented it to the duo. According to her announcement, it contained an Order of Merlin 1st class. Another round of forced applause went off as Harry and Morrigan accepted their respective awards.

As they climbed down the stairs, Morrigan leaned in and whispered, "They can't wait to get home and fuck each other's brains out."

Harry couldn't help but snort with laughter at that.

How true. Harry thought.

The Feast

Once the minister had taken her leave, the Hogwarts Hall had broken out into a true feast befitting a post-war celebration. As soon as the minister and her entourage had departed, all the diluted wine was tossed aside in favor of kegs of beer and mead. An impromptu band had begun singing at the professors' table in horrible wailing. Luckily, they had put Helena to dreamless sleep so she could recover.

At the very end of the hall, Harry saw Dorea and Charlus wolfing down drinks by the dozen and smiled.

Somebody raised his mug and shouted a toast, "For Freedom! For Britain Merlin damn it!"

"For Britain!" The entire hall shouted back with a thunderous roar.

"And for our very own Grindelwald slayer here lads! TO HARRY AND MORRIGAN!" He raised his glass, and the crowd turned and cheered.

"HARRY!" "MORRIGAN!"

Harry raised his own mug in acknowledgment of the praise and replied, "To us!"

"Hear! Hear!"

His heart was gladdened to see his people not under the stress of trenches or bunkers, wondering whether they would live to see the next day or not. As if something was guiding his face, his eyes turned to Nicolas Flamel. The ancient alchemist was glaring at him with an intensity that he had never seen before. Not even during the darkest days of the war. Nicolas's eyes met his and he raised his wine cup to him in an elegant salute.

Morrigan wrapped her arm around his as she too stared at Nicholas Flamel who was now smirking. He turned and disappeared into the crowd.

"You do know he betrayed us?" Morrigan said.

"Of course," Harry replied, enjoying the feeling of shock running through Morrigan as she gripped his arm harder.

"There has to be somewhere old Dumbledore learned his tricks of the trade, no?" Harry chuckled as Morrigan stared at him.

"What do you intend to do?" Morrigan asked.

"Right now? Nothing. It's too late for me to care about scheming old wretches anymore." Harry said. "The night is young, and victory belongs to us."

Gently cupping her face, Harry guided it to stare outside a window. Morrigan grinned as she saw the visage outside. A green skull with a serpent looping through it was in the sky. He spied Nicholas out on a balcony looking furiously at the display. He glanced towards Harry from the distance and it was Harry's turn to raise a mocking salute to him.

To war. Forever and ever more.

Fin.

Author Notes: Read and Review.